THE NATIONS: World's Man

It was nearly midnight in London.
Sentry-boxed Downing Street lay quiet save for the tramp of guards.
Inside No. 10 a taut secretary hurried to the Prime Minister's door,
knocked impatiently, turned the glass knob. Winston Churchill stood
beside his desk, reading a sheaf of reports. The secretary handed him a
note. "Sir," he quavered, "President Roosevelt died a short time ago."
The Prime Minister's face paled. He sat down, motionless for five full
minutes. Then he lifted his head, with the heaviness of a man who is
suddenly very lonely. He...